Yes, it was a difficulty poem to write, and to share. But there is a terrible conspiracy of silence that surrounds childhoods by mine. My parents and two of three siblings have exerted a great deal of pressure and ridicule in an effort to keep my silent. I am meant to be ashamed for “making them look like monsters”, although I am certain not to use their names or gloss over the fact that they, too, were abused.

That needs to stop. If people could be open and honest about what they have lived, damage could be healed. Pretending that abuse is OK if it’s not every moment, or no one is visibly scarred, does not help.

I want to help, not to hide, nor to blame. I want there to be healing for everyone whose story resonates with mine.

Your last line – though….we are each where we are in life. I was brave when I wrote this poem – but there have been many times when I wasn’t brave. This was a step toward wholeness I needed to make just then.

The world has need of all types of honesty, I think. Yours no less than anyone else’s. =D